


Slipping into the Deep End

by SFDoll



Category: iZombie (TV)
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crimes & Criminals, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-12-05 15:16:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11580714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SFDoll/pseuds/SFDoll
Summary: A twist of fate leaves Peyton alone at ground zero of the zombie outbreak where her life changes forever, taking her down a darker path than she ever dreamed.  How will she find the brains she needs to survive?  Can she hide the truth from everyone she loves?  And what else is waiting in the shadows of her new life?





	Slipping into the Deep End

Peyton quirked her eyebrow at the smiling man in the yellow windbreaker standing in front of her. He swayed slightly on his feet as he tried to look charming. "It'll make you feel like your brain's been fried, dipped in batter, and fried again," he promised holding up the little, clear plastic vial. Peyton noted his obviously intentionally ironic t-shirt with the message "Hugs not Drugs" emblazoned across his chest.

Peyton wondered for the umpteenth time what she was doing at a party full of designer drugs and energy drinks being leered at by one very high drug dealer. "I'm an assistant district attorney, and I'd prefer to keep my mind unfried," she told him, crossing her arms and giving him an icy stare. She'd been supposed to meet Liv here until an emergency at the hospital had caused her best friend to bail at the last moment, leaving Peyton alone and nursing a vile tasting energy drink. She decided it was probably time to cut her losses and call for an Uber.

The guy smiled at her, completely undeterred by her cool demeanor. "How'd you like to ditch this party and go have some real fun?" he asked. He ran his fingers through his short, sandy brownish hair and gave her a hopeful look.

Peyton couldn't believe the audacity of the man for a moment. She decided that this guy must be practically in orbit. "You need to take this and sober up," Peyton instructed. She handed him her plastic cup and began to walk away as he took a sip and grinned after her.

She hadn't gotten five steps before the sounds of chaos erupted from the other side of the deck. Screams ripped through the rollicking dance music and laughter, and Peyton turned to see a small group of young party-goers with glowing red and silver eyes ripping into the crowd around them. All around her people were breaking from their revelry and turning violently upon those nearest to them.

A young woman who had introduced herself as a cardiology student named Marcy leapt onto the neck of the man beside her. She rode him to the wooden deck and smashed his head against the planks until blood and bits of brain and bone coated the decking. Then she began digging through his shattered skull, scooping out handfuls of cranial matter, and stuffing them into her mouth with the avarice of someone who only fed in bouts of gluttony between long droughts.

The scent of blood filled Peyton's nostrils, and she jumped as two of the men who had been dancing to Peyton's right gnawed on a shrieking and thrashing redhead who had tried to beat a path through them with a fire extinguisher. Peyton realized that smoke and flames had begun to rise from the area around the booze table. However, she didn't have time to worry about how the fire had started.

Peyton knew that she had to get off this boat immediately if she were to have any hope of ever again seeing the safety of her beloved little apartment filled with the faces of her friends, of being Liv's maid of honor at the upcoming wedding, or of finally getting to try her first murder case. She bolted towards the edge of the boat with a couple of red-eyed rage monsters close on her heels. As she fled for her life a haunting thought stirred, and in the back of her mind Peyton wondered if the people who had been reduced to so much meat and gore around her had died fighting for similar hopeless dreams.

As she neared the edge of the deck, the yellow windbreaker slammed into her, and Peyton looked up in horror to find the man from before reaching for her with eyes like drops of quicksilver floating in pools of blood. His fingers wrapped around her forearm, and she twisted to lash out at him. Instead of pulling her towards him for an attack, the man knocked her over the railing, and they both tumbled into the still waters of the lake as the fire spread across the deck of the boat engulfing everything and everyone behind them.

Still in shock Peyton crawled onto the beach after her swim to safety. Turning back towards the boats, she saw that the flames had spread to more of the vessels clustered together. Figures were flailing about the decks in panic, but from here it was hard to tell if they were under attack or trying to escape from the approach of burning death. The sounds of terror and mayhem still reached the shore like ghosts skimming over the somber water. She knew those cries would haunt her as surely as the horrors she had seen floating out there.

Her arm ached and she saw that she had three deep scratches on her arm where the man had grabbed her when he threw her off the boat. Yet he hadn't tried to attack her in the water, and he was nowhere to be seen on the beach. A trail of footprints nearby lead up and off past a small clump of trees, and Peyton stared after them wondering if they'd been made by someone she could work with to get the hell out of here or one of the monsters she'd seen tearing people apart.

Peyton clutched her stomach as it clenched at the memory of that cardiology student eating the brains of what had seemed to be one of her friends. Peyton stilled in horror as she apprehended that the cramping feeling in her stomach wasn't nausea at the gruesome memory. It was hunger.

She lurched to her feet; and, holding her arms tightly around her midsection, she stumbled after the footprints in the hopes that she might find a kindred soul out there. The prints lead her back around to the bank a little further down the lake, where the body of a woman in a red dress knelt at the water's edge. The top of the woman's head had been ripped open, and Peyton couldn't resist creeping forward to peek inside the woman's open skull. There was still a large chunk of brain down on one side.

Peyton nearly cried as she reached into the woman's remains and grabbed a lump of brain. Her mind screamed at her in revolt as she brought the jiggling, pink tissue to her lips and tasted it. It was soft between her teeth as she chewed, and all she could taste was a metallic bite that reminded her of blood and the fact that this had been another human being. She was still too hungry to stop herself, though, and she ate as quickly as she could for fear of being discovered.

Despite her desire to vomit over what she had just done--when she had finished every bit she could find, Peyton licked her fingers. Then she washed her face in the water to wash away any evidence of her meal. Thinking of what she had just done as a meal filled her with disgust, but it was exactly the word her mind kept supplying.

The cellphone in her jeans pocket was soaked, so she would have to find another way home. She wandered back towards the road and followed it until she reached a place where she could hail a taxi. She spoke as little as possible during the ride, merely giving her destination. When they arrived she stuffed the remaining cash from her pocket into the driver's hand and left without waiting for any change.

Liv was still out when Peyton finally staggered through the door of their apartment, locking it behind herself without even bothering to turn on the lights. She followed the clear path to her room from memory, and only after she had closed the door behind herself did she sink to the floor, clutching her knees, and rock herself slowly back and forth.

By the time the sun came up outside Peyton had nearly convinced herself that the events of the night had been nothing more than a nightmare or a hallucination from some drug that had been snuck into her drink. At least until she finally flipped on the lights and looked at herself in the mirror. Her face was as pale as death, and a stripe of pure white hair hung down from the center of her forehead. She could see more hair starting to turn around it, and Peyton began to shake with the knowledge that everything she had been trying to deny to herself for hours had really happened. She was one of the monsters now.

The first thing Peyton did that morning once she could move again was to pull her hair back, as though she were about to go to spin class, and hide the white streak under a decorative hairband. She donned a matching outfit that Liv wouldn't be surprised to see her in at such an early hour. Next, she pulled out her cosmetics and used them to bring her skin up to an acceptable living color. Then she hurriedly rushed to the nearest open store. She did her best to match her own hair color from the shelves of boxes depicting women with every shade of hair imaginable. Finally, she began to browse the selection of tanners and bronzers, quickly deciding to stop by one of the nearby spray tan salons to book an appointment on the way home.

Peyton knew she had to hide her new reality from everyone—both for her sake and theirs. If Liv suspected for a second that something were wrong, Liv would go into doctor mode around Peyton. Within moments she would know that something was seriously wrong. Then Liv wouldn't rest until she found a way to help Peyton... no matter what it cost Liv. Liv's dreams of becoming a cardiologist were coming true, and the wedding preparations with Major were in full swing with the date looming large. Peyton couldn't bear to derail her friends' happiness, especially when she knew in her heart that there was nothing that Liv could do to help.

By the time Liv caught Peyton coming out of the bathroom with her freshly dyed hair that afternoon, there was nothing to visably signal that anything was out of the ordinary. Before Peyton could offer any kind of greeting, Liv rushed to her, flung her arms around Peyton's neck, and pulled her into a tight hug. "I kept trying to call your cell, but there was no answer. And I kept getting the machine at home. I was so worried I was on the verge of sending Major over to check on you!"

"I went to spin and ran a few errands this morning, but my cellphone is kaput. Wait! Don't tell me you're just getting home," Peyton answered, her brows drawn with the realization of how terrible Liv's night at the hospital must have been as well. Liv's eyes were bloodshot, and the dark circles under her eyes looked almost like bruises. "My God! You have to be dead on your feet!"

"Please tell me you left that party early!" Liv demanded. The petite woman was clearly distraught, and she held Peyton's face between her palms so that she could stare Peyton directly in the eye.

"Yeah. Some guy who was who was completely off his tits accidentally knocked me off the boat with him. My cellphone got soaked on the swim back to shore, and I had to walk until I could hail a cab home," Peyton told her. She kept her story as close to the truth as possible. "Why?"

Liv relaxed. "Something bad happened at Lake Washington last night, Peyton. No sooner had we finished with the bus accident than victims started coming in from the boat party. Most went straight to the morgue, but we had severe cases of shock, serious burns, people who were trampled, and a psychotic break too. The party turned into a massacre! They think it might have to do with some new designer drug or something," Liv explained in a gush, and Peyton felt relief that there was no mention of what Peyton had come to think of as 'The Zombie Outbreak'.

Peyton covered her mouth trying to feign a shock she didn't feel. She pulled Liv in for another hug, and she could feel tears prickling at her eyes as she thought about how much worse that night could have gone for the both of them. The image of Liv lying dead at Peyton's feet, a victim of Peyton's newfound hunger, still haunted her... and she knew that she would have rather stayed in the purging flames than live had she harmed her best friend. "It sounds like we got damned lucky," Peyton said.

The thought reminded Peyton of the biggest problem she'd been wrestling with all morning--where her next meal was coming from. Human brains weren't something she could just pick up at the butcher's shop. She certainly didn't know anybody with access to dead bodies whom she could bribe to look the other way while she took her three squares out the door with her. She couldn't risk putting Liv into a situation that could ruin her best friend's life by asking Liv to try to sneak around and steal anything from the hospital. If the worst happened Peyton would go down alone rather than take anyone down with her. Peyton had only found one possible course of action, which is why—after Liv went to bed tonight—Peyton Charles had already prepared to go out on her first forray into the exciting world of graverobbing.

|*|

Five months later Peyton had still managed to keep her clandestine zombie life a secret from everyone around her. Liv's distraction over the wedding had been invaluable, and now that Liv and Major were settled into their new house Peyton had even been able to move her stash of brains into the kitchen from the minifridge she'd kept hidden in her bedroom. The freedom afforded her by living alone was liberating. Peyton was admittedly less fond of having the full burden of the rent though.

Her stress level wasn't eased any by the fact that it was time again to make another brain run, and her last attempt hadn't gone well. As a result the supply of brains in Peyton's fridge had dipped dangerously low, and trying to stretch them had left her even more dangerously hungry. Dropping her gym bag by the fresh grave of Richard Herman, Peyton bent and pulled out the folding shovel she'd purchased at a military surplus store downtown. Then she began to dig.

Graverobbing wasn't like it was in the movies. First off, Peyton only made her hole half the length of the grave otherwise she'd never have enough time to complete her task. That also meant that Peyton had to keep tools on hand to break through both the wooden coffin and the skull itself. After several feet down every shovel full of dirt felt heavier than the last, and then she still had to smash through the coffin and skull before filling the hole back in. Last week after a grueling night of effort, Peyton had smashed her way into the coffin with an axe only to discover that the body had been buried without a head. Late nights at work had prevented her from making another run before now. Tonight was do or die.

A few hours later Peyton was still digging, nearing her goal, when the sounds of someone approaching caught her attention. A flashlight cut a swath back and forth across the path between the headstones, and Peyton froze. Getting arrested for attempted body snatching would be the end of her legal career, but failure would mean starvation. "Please. Please not now," Peyton whispered in a quiet plea to any god who might be listening.

Peyton ducked and cursed lividly under her breath as she calculated her best escape route, still hoping against all hope that the man approaching would magically miss the several foot pile of dirt from Peyton's activities.

She was within a foot of the coffin lid, but the man was close enough to hear anything Peyton tried to do now. She was so close to the food she needed that Peyton imagined herself smashing through the remaining barriers with her fists. She would have to get to the brains, climb out of a five foot deep hole and escape before the watchman could reach her.

"What the hell?" exclaimed a deep voice as the light came to rest upon the giant mound of soil. She was out of time.

Peyton scrabbled out of the grave and scurried across the ground. She seized the straps of her gym bag as she ran, clutching her shovel tightly in the other hand. Behind her the watchman was still yelling as he gave chase. A surge of energy left her limbs shaking, and she vaulted over the stone wall of the cemetery.

She fled across the road, cars honking and brakes screeching behind her. Only once she had reached the relative shelter of the alley, where there was no crowd to watch her, did she collapse and stow her shovel in her bag. Looking at her hand, Peyton was shocked to see that it was completely pale and veined like the zombies she remembered from the night she turned.

This was a disaster! Short of getting caught, Peyton couldn't fathom a more desperate situation. From experience she knew that she grew meaner and less herself as she got more hungry, and her cinematic research suggested that she was becoming more like a movie zombie when she hadn't had enough brains. She could feel it even now underneath the panic threatening to bury her.

If she starved enough Peyton could only imagine that she would completely become a rampaging zombie, and after tonight's near miss the cemetery staff would be on high alert for graverobbers. She couldn't return there, and what if the other graveyards all raised their security in response? Not that she could wait for another night... Instead of dreams about her future as a great District Attorney, Peyton realized with a sickening drop of her stomach that her likely future would be whatever was the least horrible death she could devise for herself before she could become the cause of the zombie apocalypse.

"Looks like this is my lucky night," came a predatory voice behind Peyton. A thin metal edge pressed into the side of her throat just below Peyton's jugular. "Hand over your wallet, lady, and that fine ass of yours gets to walk out of this alley."

Tired of being afraid and hungry, Peyton did something she'd never let herself do before. Ignoring the blade digging into her neck, she swung around to face the short, dark-haired man. She growled into the mugger's face, and he screamed as he stared back into her furious crimson glare. She realized that not only could she rip this fragile, squirming person to pieces but also that a part of her honestly wanted to.

The sound of sneakers slapping against the pavement echoed off the walls as another man skidded onto the scene, but she was too fixated on her would-be attacker to focus on the newcomer. Peyton lifted the terrified mugger by the neck one-handed, and he slashed at her arm in a blind panic before burying the knife to the hilt in her chest.

There was surprisingly little blood after all the cuts. The rending of muscle, nerves, and skin still hurt, though—the flat metal sliding between the gap of her ribs and lodging itself in her lung and her heart. Peyton screamed as the man twisted the knife further ripping apart the muscle and tissue. Peyton hurled the man across the alley, where he bounced off a metal dumpster with a loud clang and a softer crunching sound barely audible below the clatter of his limp body falling to the asphalt. She knew in an instant that he was dead. Peyton pulled the hunting knife from her chest and held it threateningly.

The second man on the scene had neither moved nor spoken. Peyton looked up at him prepared to lunge should he show the slightest sign of aggression. Her lips were drawn back in a feral snarl, and her eyes narrowed as she studied the stunned figure before her.

Standing there staring at her with a look of awe was a familiar man in a yellow windbreaker and a "Hugs not Drugs" t-shirt. He also had a duffle bag slung over his shoulders. His already fair skin was now a milky white and his formerly sandy hair had turned into a messy white cloud of waves. The combination made his impossibly bright blue eyes even more striking by contrast, and he was handsome in a way Peyton hadn't noticed back on the boat.

The faint wail of sirens sounded in the distance, drawing closer and attracting the attention of the two surprised zombies. The man's suddenly red eyes darted over the scene, and he rushed to Peyton's open gym bag. He grasped the handle of the machete that Peyton had brought tonight as a test to see if it made it easier to get through a skull. Peyton's first reaction was one of fear, but as the stranger turned towards the body of the man she had just killed, she realized he intended to help her.

He brought the machete down full force on the dead mugger's neck severing the head from the body in one strike. Two more strokes removed the corpse's hands, and he tossed the severed body parts into Peyton's bag with the used machete.

"Looks like we're taking dinner to go!" he exclaimed. His thin lips spread into a daredevil smirk as he pulled Peyton's bag over one shoulder and took her hand in his. Then he ran down the shadow painted alley with Peyton, leading her into the honeycomb of Seattle's dark underbelly with a reckless laugh that made Peyton smile in response. This was crazy... and dangerous... and exhilarating... and Peyton couldn't believe how good she suddenly felt.


End file.
